Hate's Right Hand
by arrow maker
Summary: Prequel to 'Heart of Ice' Ilivarra's life as an assassin. Not pretty, folks.
1. Chapter 1

m: I probably should be continuing the Saronax series or starting the Linu fic but my demented little mind has been telling me to start an Ili fic. (Sigh) Good God I need to write about more themes besides revenge. Disclaimer: I only claim ownership over the title 'Hate's Right Hand' Ilivarra Barrindar, Amalaere, Corran Kaseret, Korve Besair, Malice, Tanamtor and whatever other random characters I introduce.

Chapter One

The impenetrable darkness covered her like a soft blanket. So deep was the blackness that even her drow eyes—which were well-accustomed to the absence of light—could not make out the roof of the coffin. Had there been a source of light, it would have been easy to see her violet eyes, wide and haunted. A single tear made a liquid trail down her cheek, causing the many wounds and scars on her face to sting.

She barely acknowledged the pain, for she had received far too much over the last several weeks for a single trail of salt water to even make a dent. She was well aware that she was dying, feeling the precious blood of her life dripping out of her veins and staining the hard wood beneath her. She blinked once, and watched as a memory formed before her eyes.

_"I despise you, Corran Kaseret."_

One offirst insults she had exchanged with him. It had been far too long for her to remember what they were fighting over that day, but his response rang clear in her mind.

_"No you don't. You're just trying to resist my godlike handsomeness. Must be tough on you." the bard replied with a grin. He started to tap the table with his fingers, starting a slight musical beat. "You say you wanna hit me. Your lies are really shitty. I can see it in your eyes. Quit telling me all those lies. I know that you want me. It's just that easy to see. It truly isn't all that hard. After all, I am a bard. So why don't you stop being so pissy, and bend down and kiss me?" He grinned up at her. "You know you want to." _

"I might be more flattered if your lyrics weren't so atrocious. I thought you were a better bard than that."

He gave her a look of mock-sorrow. "It's not my fault my lyrics are terrible. All I can think about is you. Take pity upon my love-struck heart!" He batted his eyelashes at her. "It pines for you."

"I should have you killed for that. You...you are strange, strange male." Ilivarra declared, rolling her eyes in exasperation and walking out of the room.

Corran chuckled, knowing very well that she would not do that.

A hell hound sat in the hallway as she walked out, his teeth bared in a canine grin.

Ilivarra glared at her familiar. "What is it, Tanamtor?"

The hound chuckled. "In the two and a half centuries that I have known you, I must admit that I never seen you such a strong reaction to single man before. He must really be something."

"He is something. He's a complete dick. I've only known him for about a month and already he exasperates me to no end! I should kill the male for behaving in such a fashion!"

"So you say. But I get the feeling that you really want him." stated Tanamtor. The hell hound grinned. "Does it hurt so good, Ili?"

"You are positively foul." Ili glared at him before walking away.

Another memory came to mind, one that happened several years later. The drow had forgotten her hate towards him, and became friends with him. Conducting their friendship away from the prying eyes of others, as the differences in their ranks was forgotten.Soon, she even started to develop an infatuation with him. This eventually became more.

_"Corran, have you ever been in love?" _

"Huh?"

"Have you ever been in love?"

"Well, that depends. I have met someone I like…"

"Really?" Ili asked. "Is it another slave?"

"In a certain way she is. You see, she and her mother do not get along quite well. Her mother demands absolute obedience, but she's spirited woman and has trouble doing that."

"Oh." Ilivarra said, trying to ignore the sinking feeling of rejection in her gut. "How long have you known her?"

"Some time now. What do you think I should do?" He ran his fingers through his brown hair, his brown eyes looking hopefully at Ilivarra.

"Well, do you have any ideas about telling her?"

"Well, I did get her this." He pulled a golden locket out of his pocket. "I've already placed a number of enchantments—with Tan's help—on it. Do think that after I tell her you could help me with some more enchantments?"

Ili gave him a weak smile. "I'd be glad to."

"I think I'll give it to her now."

"You do that."

Corran smiled and walked over to Ili. He took her hand and placed the locket in her open palm.

Ili gave him a look of surprise, which soon turned to shock when he leaned down and pressed a passionate kiss to her dark lips.

Corran grinned. "You didn't really think it was someone else, did you?"

"For a moment I did."

"Well then, I suppose I'll erase all thoughts of doubt from your mind." He cupped her face and pressed another kiss to her lips.

At the time, Ili was unsure and afraid of whether or not she loved him. But she could not end their relationship.

Another memory flashed before her eyes.

_Ilivarra smiled at Corran as he played his newest song on his guitar. "You've certainly improved, Kaseret." _

"Yes but it sounds so much better when people dance to it." Before Ili could say anything, Corran pulled her out of the chair and began to dance. She followed him, a slight smile adorning her face. They took care not to knock over anything in Ilivarra's room, moving carefully but gracefully.

Corran ended the last lyrics with a smile, dipping Ilivarra backwards for a kiss. Ilivarra responded with a gentle kiss of her own, eager to taste the flesh of her bard. Ili soon grew impatient with these simple pleasures, indicated by a low snarl that crept from the back of her throat. She bade Corran to stand, then took the bard's mouth in hers, biting down on his lower lip. As her lips moved sensuously with his, her fingers discovered his chest, covered with the soft cloth of a tunic. The fabric was soon replaced by taut muscle, for Ili had unbuttoned and thrown the useless garment to the ground. The wizardess's lips continued to cling to his, an exquisite edition to the hands which massaged the toned muscles of his bare torso. Ilivarra's hands did not cease, her nimble fingers unfastening the clasps of Corran's clothes in an indication of discontent with only the prior removal of his tunic. Yes, she would go through every layer of clothing he owned until he stood before her dressed in nothing but the shadows decorating the walls of her room.

The bard swelled with desire, but the wizardess would not allow him to perform until she was satisfied with her part in this splendid dance. Corran's could hear the sound of his heart pounding, and ached with yearning at every succulent kiss and spine tingling caress Ili bestowed. In his passion-hazy mind, this was the most fantastic torture he had ever experienced.

His fingers found their way to the front of her wizardess robe, unlacing the soft fabric. The bard took a moment to drink in the beauty of her curvaceous form, clad only in her wavy white hair. She did not give him long to gaze upon her, as she slowly and softly caressed his neck, affecionately nibbled his ear, then tenderly met his mouth once more. His lips mournfully left hers, but soon rejoiced in the discovery of her throat, taking even greater delight at the discovery of a far more facinating prize just below her collarbone. Warm kisses made a tingling path across her flesh, and callused--albeit gentle--hands swept aside her ivory locks. Ilivarra let out a soft moan and curled her fingers into Corran's hair, raking her nails across his scalp.

Corr let out a slight grunt of surprise, induced by Ili grasping his shoulders for leverage and leaping towards him. The bard gripped onto her backside out of reflex, evoking a wicked smile from the drow. Corran tilted his neck to kiss her once again, a soft joining of lips that soon became a passionate battle for dominance. Her thighs embraced his hips, her arms embraced his neck, holding him tightly in a rare admission of trust and affection. He found it impossible not to demonstrate his own tender feelings through another meeting of their mouths.

Returning the bard's kisses, Ili relished in his marvelous taste. Corran smiled into the kiss, very much enjoying the press of her breasts against his chest, the feel of her long hair tickling his skin, and the sheer beauty of her amethyst eyes as they gazed upon his form with more intensity than any predator the bard had ever encountered. Those eyes went wide, and the wizard let out a groan of approval for the lips that swept a path across the flesh of her neck, alternating between lingering kisses, and gentle nips.

Ili was not entirely certain of what transpired, but somehow knew the bard's grip shifted from her backside to the small of her back, crushing her chest against his. Her legs now dangled at least a foot above the ground, a display of just how much of a difference in their heights existed. Knowing that the male was strong enough to support her with one arm, Ilivarra arched a cynical eyebrow at the bard's decision to place her in such a position. Comprehension dawned as his free hands traveled up the smooth flesh of her thigh.

A light chuckle escaped her at his entranced expression, brought on by the silken and sleek flesh beneath his fingertips. His hands reached their destination, and the bard began to caress the wizardess in a most pleasant way. His deft fingers treated her with the same care and devotion that he poured into his music; she couldn't help but let out a cry of tremendous appreciation.

Ili's arms and legs went slack, and Corran slowly eased her into a standing postition once more. She leaned against him for support, her eyelids made heavy with passion. Corran felt imprisoned by the depths of the violet gaze that fell upon him. The amethyst orbs eyed his mouth as though it was a fabulous feast. Ilivarra pulled his face towards hers once more, artfully tracing his lips with her tongue.

Suddenly, she wrenched his face down towards hers, locking his head in a deadly grip and his eyes in an amethyst hold that was just as lethal.

"More." She demanded.

Corran grinned and swept her off her feet, pausing only to recieve another kiss from his lover as he carried her towards the bed.

The hours passed by as they made love, their cries of passion and ecstasy ringing clearly throughout the room. Ilivarra smiled at Corran, their intertwined bodies drenched with sweat. Despite her smile, Ili felt distinctly unsettled. There had been a certain intimacy to their consummation, one that had been absent in her previous liasons. Those had been of a physical nature, while this had been much more emotionally close for the drow wizardess. This copulation had possessed carnality, yes, but throughout the act Corran's brown eyes had held her in an embrace far more affectionate and...understanding, was that the right word?--than she preferred. Even more frightening, was the deeply pleased amethyst gaze reflected in the bard's eyes. Was she relieved that she had finally given into her passion and slept with the bard? Was it a simple infactuation that she had developed over the five years she had known him? Was it...love?

Corran smiled at Ilivarra, a loving look in his eyes.

Ili rested her head on the bard's chest and closed her eyes. She was too tired to notice that Corran was toying with her snowy tresses. Too exhausted to explore her strange and dangerous feelings.

Their happiness shattered as the consequences of their union came into play.

_Ilivarra nervously paced the room. Her mother had recently learned of her pregnancy, and had every intention of disposing of Corran. The wizard had sent her familiar to free Corran, but that had been some time ago. She had wanted to go herself, but Tan had argued that she would be watched too carefully to do anything, and that she would be putting her unborn daughter in danger. Ili had no choice but to let Tan go instead of herself. _

She breathed a sigh of relief as Tanamtor entered her room, a bruised Corran slung over his back.

"Oh shit." Ilivarra slung one of Corran's arms over her slender shoulders and placed him on the bed. "Are you alright? Corr, say something!"

Corran gave her a weak smile. "It takes more than that to kill me, Sweetheart." He grinned and kissed her hand. "I had no idea you cared so much. I feel so special."

Ili let out a sigh of exasperation.

"Will you please tell your boyfriend that he could lose a few pounds?" A tired Tanamtor asked as he gnawed on a rothe bone.

"Please. He's not that heavy."

"Do you have any idea what's it like to have him ride you for three hours straight?"

Ilivarra gave him a very flat look.

Tan grimaced. "I just lost my appetite."

At that moment, several guards burst into the room. Tanamtor immediately leapt up to defend Ilivarra, but his efforts proved futile as a guard swiftly gutted him.

"NO!" Ilivarra cried out. She knelt next to the animal. "Tanamtor! Tan!"

"Let's go." One of the guards said gruffly as he grabbed her arm.

Ilivarra blinked. Several days after the recapture of Corran, the Valsharess had conquered house Barrindar. Ili and Corran had fled, hoping to escape to the surface.

_Ilivarra shook her head at the corpse of the red sister. "We can't keep fighting them." She sighed. "How long until one of us dies?" _

"Hey, don't say shit like that, Ili." Corran snapped.

"Why not? It's all true!" Ilivarra yelled. "We've spent six months trying to get to the surface! There's only two months left, Corran! Sure, we can protect ourselves but what about our child? What the fuck is your plan for that?" she screamed.

"Ili, calm down. It's not good for the baby if you get angry."

Ilivarra frowned. "I know. I…I'm sorry, Corr." She sighed. "I hate saying that."

He smiled and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Don't worry. We'll be out of here before the month ends. We'll get to the surface, and you'll give birth to Amalaere, and we'll raise her together. I'll even buy you a proper engagement ring instead of letting that locket serve as one."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Ili scowled up at him. "I hate it that you've made me this happy. It makes me feel that I'm going to lose it." She sighed. "Like so many times before." Ili glared at him. "Listen to me. Now you've made me into a whining imbecile."

"I'm not going anywhere. I keep my promises. And I'd like to keep you too. Though I might need a fence to keep you around in a few years. Can't have you running away through the streets. You'll catch a cold." He teased.

"Very funny." Ili frowned. "Alright then. Don't think I've let you off that easily though."

Corr grinned and pressed a light kiss to her lips. "I love you too, sweetheart."

"You talk too much," Was the muffled reply from woman, her face buried in his chest.

"I still love you."

"Shut up."

Another tear ran down her cheek as she remembered how this promise had been broken.

_Ilivarra collapsed to the ground. A sticky puddle of her own blood lay beneath her, and various wounds covered her body. She paid no attention to these wounds, instead wishing with all her might that her unborn child was safe. _

Korve Besair swung his hand axe and his sickle and struck Corran down. Ilivarra's purple eyes widened as he fell, his tan face now a mask of pain.

The mercenary grinned at the bard. "Now for my next trick." He walked towards Ili and knelt down next to her. Ili gave him a smoldering glare, not allowing any of the fear she felt to show in her eyes.

Korve smoothed back his red bangs and grinned at Ilivarra. It was a sick sadistic grin, marring his handsome face and making it ugly. He pulled a scroll out of his pocket. Ili immediately recognized the scroll. It was an abortion spell.

Korve laughed. "So long for your daughter!" He said as he cast the spell. Ilivarra watched with open horror as her stomach decreased in size and became its original slim self.

The mercenary smiled at Corran. "You probably think I'm gonna kill you and your little cocksucker don't you?" He shook his head. "I've gotta hand it to you, Kaseret. She's a pretty little piece of drow pussy."

Corran's eyes were smoldering with rage.

Korve gave him a crooked grin. "But no, I'll kill you both later. For now, there's other things that your little cunt can do."

With those last words, Korve roughly turned Ili onto her stomach. He used one hand to pin her arms behind her back, the other he used loosen the buckles of his armor. Ili was well aware of what he was doing as he began to undo the ties of her own armor. She squeezed her eyes shut, determined not to look at him as he raped her. Only a few seconds had passed beforethe drow felt his flesh press against hers. She grit her teeth as he penetrated her, pure rage and resentment coursing through her very soul at every thrust, and every groan the mercenary emitted. She only caught a few of the phrases he said between groans. "Great ass...Fucking slut...Little bitch never had it so good...Bet your bard doesn't do it like this, cocksucker...Like sticking a pig...Bet your daughter would have had a great ass too."

The ravagement of her body seemed to last for hours, until Korve finally climaxed, prompting a terrible scream of suffering from the woman he assaulted. The mercenary laughed at his victim and gave her backside a brief squeeze. "Good for you two, little cunt?" His hands slid under her shirt, cupping her breasts and digging his nails into her flesh. Korve's expression turned to one of disgust. "Like I give a shit, you fucking whore. Look at you. All helpless. Didn't even struggle. Yeah I know what you're thinking, mage. That something in my weapons," He smirked, "All three of them, paralyzed you. There's nothing like that. I just blasted your ass and there's nothing keeping you still but your own fear. Fucking pathetic." Korve spat into her bloodsoaked hair.

Ilivarra finally opened her eyes when she was certain Korve was finished. Corran's brown eyes stared back at her, filled with an ocean of fury and sorrow.

Ilivarra narrowed her eyes as the memories of what happened next came to mind.

_It was the final straw. Corran's head hung low as his heart began to fail. He stole last glance at Ili, his eyes holding all the love for her that he couldn't voice aloud. Ilivarra returned the look, her eyes moist with tears. _

When Corran's body went limp, Ilivarra allowed silent tears of hate, rage, and despair to fall to the ground.

Korve saw her tears and began to laugh. He continued his awful laughter as he picked up a torch and set fire to the corpse. When all of the ashes of the bard had fallen to the ground, the mercenary turned towards Ilivarra. "Your turn. You're not gonna cry over that too, are ya?"

The drow gritted her teeth as more memories plagued her.

_Korve once again struck her across the face. She said nothing, only giving him the same defiant amethyst glare. _

Korve smirked. "I bet I could fry an egg on your head right now, little cunt."

Ilivarra continued to glare at him.

"Ya know, I'm only going to ask one thing of you at this point. I want you to scream." He presented her with his sadistic smile. "Scream for me, bitch. Scream for me…"

She had remained strong and had not screamed despite the suffering that he put her though. While not the first time the drow had been tortured, it was the longest and most difficult session she had ever faced. Finally, Korve had decided that she was going to die very soon anyway and that it was pointless to continue her torture. The mercenary had stabbed her in the chest, then buried her on the outskirts of a svirf settlement.

The last thing she had seen before going into the ground was Korve's eyes. The cold, cruel black orbs had held nothing short of sadistic joy as he had nailed down the roof of the coffin.

Ilivarra was suddenly filled with new strength. The memory of those eyes filled her with a rage so intense that it both frightened and pleased her at the same time. Her scarred lips curled into a snarl. "I swear on Corran's grave that I will gauge those eyes out." She whispered.

The drow decided to put this new strength to the test. She leveled her right hand at the roof--which for some reason was now perfectly visible to her--and began raining furious blows upon the wood. It soon cracked and she was able to free herself from the coffin. The drow began to claw her way to the surface.

When she pulled herself out, an expression of pure determination and anger was painted across her face. Ilivarra Barrindar's body was close to death, but her spirit had been resurrected.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Ilivarra crouched at the side of the road, carefully calculating her next actions. Several days had passed since she had escaped her grave. The drow had managed to bind the worst of her wounds but was still badly injured. She knew that if she did not receive healing, food, and water that she would die.

Two svirfs made their way up the road. They both carried packs on their shoulders, showing that they were travelers of a sort. Ilivarra smiled. It was the smile of a hunter that had found its prey, the grin of a predator.

The first gnome turned to his companion. "We should stop soon so we can get some more-" He never finished his sentence, for Ilivarra had snuck up behind him and swiftly broken his neck. The second stared at her in horror, shocked by the death that he had just witnessed as well as the numerous scars and bruises that adorned Ili's face. The drow took advantage of his surprise, shoving her index and middle finger up his nostrils before jerking his face around and nearly twisting his head off in the process.

The adrenaline soon left her, replaced by a wave of exhaustion. She sank to her knees, taking deep breaths and attempting to slow her rapidly beating heart. A look of disgust crossed her face. "Pathetic." She snarled angrily, referring to herself. "I'm stronger than this." The drow forced herself to stand up and began to search their packs.

Ilivarra smiled when she found several healing potions. She drank them greedily, feeling a rush of delight as her wounds healed. Her smile was replaced by a frown when she realized that there were still scars on her arms, torso, and legs. She ran her fingertips down her face, taking note of the fact that several scars still remained on her face.

The drow continued to search the pack. She found a pair of pants and a shirt and quickly adorned them, shedding the dark rags that she had been buried in. Ilivarra looked down to see that the pants only stretched as far as her knees and the shirt only went as far as her navel. _Huh. I lose a child I gain a bigger set of tits. As if my tits weren't big enough already. Figures. ...Why the hell am I thinking of that? By the pits of hell, I must be cracking up._

Her scowl deepened when she saw that there was no food in the pack. Her first thought was to conjure some food with her magic. Though she concentrated with immense effort, her arcane abilities would not function. Ili scowled bitterly. _What more can he possibly take from me?_

Ilivarra looked at the corpses and grimaced. _Better than starving._

The drow approached the corpse of the first svirf and knelt down. Her eyes scanned the ground near her and locked on a sharp rock. Ilivarra picked up the rock and used it as a virtual knife as she sawed off the top of the svirf's skull. She reached inside the svirf's head and cut out a piece of his brain, placing it in her mouth and forcing herself to swallow.

She sat there for some time, eating the remains of the svirf. When finished, she buried the other svirf to make sure that no one would know of her presence.

Her violet eyes surveyed the road ahead. _And now, my journey truly begins. I'm coming for you, Korve. Count on it you fucking dickhead. _

XXXXX

A female drow sat on a throne, sporting a dark smile as she watched the image in front of her. The image was of Ilivarra, creeping through the streets of a duerger city. She sank into the shadows of a dark alley, waiting. A duerger soon walked by, unaware of the drow's presence. Ilivarra lunged out and snatched him into the alley. With incredible speed, Ili slammed the duergar's head into the wall, instantaneously cracking his skull. Ilivarra stripped him of his purse and a small knife that he wore on his belt before dragging his body behind a large trashcan.

A drow male entered the room. He bowed to the woman and waited for her to give him permission to speak. She granted it.

"House Claddarn has fallen, mistress. The remaining soldiers have pledged loyalty to you, swearing that you are their great Valsharess."

The Valsharess nodded. "Tell me, do you recognize this woman?" she pointed at the image in front of her.

The man gasped. "I thought she was dead!"

"I did as well. It seems that Besair has failed." the displeased matron stated.

"Should I send a group of soldiers to destroy her, mistress?"

"No. She is far more useful alive than dead."

"Forgive my impudence, mistress, but are you sure? She certainly has become violent." he declared, his tone more than just a little unnerved.

"Which makes her a perfect candidate to become one of my red sisters." The Valsharess grinned. "She would perform excellently under the tutelage of Malice Melvirr. Is she currently training someone?"

"She is and will be for the next four years, Mistress."

Sinvyl frowned. "Very well then. I can wait."

"Forgive me, mistress, but why would the daughter of House Barrindar wish to join us?"

"Because we have the location of the mercenary Besair. And we shall give it to her for a price."

"Are you sure, mistress? Korve Besair has been a valuable asset to us…"

A memory flashed before the Valsharess's eyes.

_"Do you know why I have requested your presence?" The Valsharess asked. _

"I'm guessing that you want me to kill off some irritating little cunts for you."

"Indeed." The Valsharess presented him with a scroll and bulging sack of gold. "Their names are Corran Kaseret and Ilivarra Barrindar. Inside the scroll are more details about the couple. I've paid your customary sum, and added more wealth to the bag."

"What for?"

"You must make them suffer to their last heartbeat."

Korve scanned the scroll for several minutes before looking up and grinning at the matron. "In that case, I'll torture them, kill their child, and bury the remaining one alive. I'll even fuck Kaseret's little bitch for free."

"No." The Valsharess said sharply. "She may be a dobluth but she is still a drow. And you harbor some drow blood in your veins. To do such a thing would only lower you."

Korve sneered at her. "Yes, ma'am. I'll take my leave now." He turned around and walked out of the room.

The Valsharess narrowed her eyes. She was well aware that Korve had disobeyed her last order and had indeed forced himself upon Ilivarra. "Her value outweighs his. Plus, she will be far more obedient to us than he ever was. I'll have Malice make sure of that." The drowqueen narrowed her eyes the male. "I am a merciful queen, which is why you are still alive despite your incessant questioning of my orders."

The male immediately began babbling apologies and pleas for forgiveness.

"Silence." She turned her gaze towards the image. "At the moment, Barrindar is little more than an animal. We will give her several years to regain some of her humanoid instincts."

XXXXX

Three months later, Ilivarra sat in her small room at the inn. She had obtained some new clothes. She wore skin-tight pants and a shirt, both of them purple as well as black. A brown belt wrapped itself around her waist and left shoulder, its silver buckles reflecting the small amount of light in the room. Her black boots covered her from foot to knees, and were propped up on several books. Her wavy silver hair was tied back in a full ponytail rather than hanging down her back with two braids encircling her head like a crown.

Several piles of scrolls—all of them listing possible current locations of the Valsharess—surrounded the drow. She was taking a break from her search, too tired to continue. Ili took a swig of what was the sixth bottle of ale she'd had that night. She then took a long drag from the cigarette in her right hand. She had discovered the practice two months earlier, quickly learning that smoking as well as drinking was a way for her to cope with her loss.

She took another puff, closing her eyes and allowing a memory to form in her mind.

_Korve smiled at the furious Ilivarra. "Ya still won't scream for me. You're strong, little cunt. I'll give you that." He pulled out a knife and cut open another wound on her face. _

Ilivarra merely gave him the same smoldering glare she had worn for the past few days, determined not to cry out.

"Maybe I should fuck you again. That might make you cry out." He let out a chuckle as Ili's eyes widened. "Don't worry, little cunt. I won't fuck you. If I did, it would kill you." He grinned. "Though I'm sure you wanna join your boyfriend and your unborn bastard too."

Ili's amethyst eyes locked with Korve's obsidian black orbs. The drow spit in the mercenary's face, smiling slightly at the enraged expression that rested on his face.

Korve let out a snarl and wiped away the saliva from his face. "Think that was funny, huh?" He picked up his sickle and leveled it at Ilivarra's eyes. "We'll see who's smiling in a few minutes, little cunt."

Ilivarra idly reached up and touched the scar that started at her right eyebrow, cut through her right eye and stopped just at the beginning of her neck. Filled with a sudden rage, Ilivarra picked up the bottle of ale and hurled it at the wall. She smiled as the liquid dripped down the wall, leaving a crimson stain. _I've waited for months now. I can wait as long as necessary. _The drow took one last drag of her cigarette before picking up a scroll and resuming her research.


	3. Chapter 3

m: Special thanks to The Phantom of the Opera. 'All I Ask of You' belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber. Special thanks to 'What Women Want' as well. And 'Thelma and Louise'

Chapter Three

Nearly four years had passed. Ilivarra sat in a tavern, finishing off her fifth drink. Though she had spent the past few years in the city, this was the first time she had been to this particular tavern. The drow placed several gold on the counter. "Another bloodrazor."

The bartender blinked. "You sure? This'll be your sixth…"

"I'm well aware of my own limits." Ili snapped as she lit a cigarette.

The man frowned and refilled her glass.

Ilivarra took a sip of her ale as she scanned the room. Her gaze fell upon a couple. They were both surfacers—not uncommon in the dark and seedy city—and were dancing together. A memory formed in Ili's mind.

_Ili hid a smile as she walked into the room. Corran had his guitar out, and was singing a new song._

_No more talk  
of darkness,  
Forget these  
wide-eyed fears.  
I'm here,  
nothing can harm you -  
my words will  
warm and calm you.  
Let me be  
your freedom,  
let daylight  
dry -your tears.  
I'm here,  
with you, beside you,  
to guard you  
and to guide you_

_Ili arched an eyebrow. "I haven't heard this one."_

_Corran looked up and grinned at her. "Its new. I wrote it for a story I know."_

_"Oh? What story?"_

_"You wish to hear the tale do you? Alright then." The bard cleared his throat. "There once was a man. He was brilliant in every sense of the word, but the world shunned him due to his hideous face. You see, he had been born with a face infection so awful, that his mother fainted at the very sight of him. He had to wear a mask to conceal his ugliness and always dressed all in black. After he escaped from a life of mockery and shame, he came to a Cormyran city that held all the beauty that his features lacked. His brilliance allowed him to build a small world of his own, underneath a musical theater. He often came to the theater to watch the performances in his personal seat. People were unaware of who he was, and thus called him 'The Phantom.' One day, he heard the most beautiful, sorrowful voice he'd ever listened to. It was the voice of a new performer, a young woman by the name of Christine. Her father, a great violinist,had died recently, and she was in the theater in order to make a living for herself.Captivated, he met with her and even became Christine's teacher. She believed him to be the so-called 'Angel of Music' that her father had informed her of years before."_

_"Let me guess, the phantom feel in love with her."_

_"He did. Unfortunately for him, Christine's childhood sweetheart, Raoul, had returned and wished to pursue her. She was afraid to let herself love him, fearful of what the phantom would do. Now then, the song I wrote is about Raoul's love for Christine and her fear. Some of the parts are from Raoul's point of view and some are from Christine's point of view." He shook his head. "The song just doesn't sound right."_

_"Well that's because you're trying to sing something that requires a female voice, stupid." Ilivarra stated, rolling her eyes._

_"Are you saying you could do better?"_

_"I probably could."_

_Corran grinned. "Great!" He gave her a sheet of paper. "Sing the next verse."_

_"What?"_

_"Sing the next verse."_

_"Are you serious?"_

_"You said you could do better than me. Prove yourself right."_

_Ili sighed. "Fine." She cleared her throat and began to sing, sounding beautiful and melodious. It took her a few tries to get the song to sound perfect, but her voice remained beautiful throughout the entire time._

_Say you love me  
every  
waking moment,  
turn my head  
with talk of summertime . . .  
Say you need me  
with you,  
now and always . . .  
promise me that all  
you say is true -  
that's all I ask  
of you . . ._

_Corran grinned. "That was incredible! Where did you learn to sing like that?"_

_Ili gave him a wry smile. "It was the only thing that shut up my younger sister when I was her wean-mother. It worked excellently on my younger brother as well."_

_"Would you like to finish?"_

_"Sure."_

_Corran began to sing._

_Let me be  
your shelter,  
let me  
be your light.  
You're safe:  
No-one will find you  
your fears are  
far behind you . . ._

_All I want  
is freedom,  
a world with  
no more night . . .  
and you  
always beside me  
to hold me  
and to hide me . . ._

_Then say you'll share with  
me one  
love, one lifetime . . .  
Iet me lead you  
from your solitude . . .  
Say you need me  
with you  
here, beside you . . .  
anywhere you go,  
let me go too -  
Christine,  
that's all I ask  
of you . . ._

_Say you'll share with  
me one  
love, one lifetime . . .  
say the word  
and I will follow you . . ._

_Share each day with  
me, each  
night, each morning . . ._

_Say you love me . . . _

You know I do . . .

Love me -  
that's all I ask  
of you . . .

_Corran smiled. "I admit I'm a bit glad you never decided to become a bard. I don't think I could take the competition." _

_Ilivarra laughed. Her violet eyes locked with Corran's own brown._

Such a warm brown, _Ilivarra thought. She continued to look into his eyes, idly wondering if the pretty color ran in family or if he was different, special in the way of color. Her own eyes widened when she realized what she was doing. "I should get the scrolls I came here for." She stood up and walked over to the shelf._

_"You find it?" Corran asked, standing up._

_"Yeah." Ili turned around just as Corran was jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans._

Oh dammit, I just looked at his crotch. I hope he didn't notice. He'd never let me live it down, _Ilivarra thought._

_Corran took that moment to begin rocking back and forth on his heels. "You need some help with something?" He asked innocently._

Shit! I just did it again! _"No I'm just...uh...admiring the scenery--of this room! Yes, it's a nice room, don't you think?"_

_"It's decorated beautifully. Oh! I just remembered, you were about to leave without your book." Corr walked over to the small table by the door, bent over, and picked up the book._

_Ili's eyes drifted towards his backside. Realizing what she was doing, shetore her gaze away from him. _There is no justice in this world. _"Err…I should go." Ili stammered. The drow rapidly grabbed the book out of Corr's hand and quickly left the room, hoping the bard wouldn't see the blush that had formed on her cheeks. She almost never blushed, but something about Corr made her face turn a deep cherry red._

_Corran quietly chuckled as she left, knowing very well what had made her blush._

_Tanamtor was outside the room, smirking at Ilivarra as she approached._

_Ili glared at him. "What are you laughing at?"_

_"Your brilliant use of subtlety back there."_

_Ilivarra frowned, even more embarrassed than before. "Do you think he noticed?"_

_"I think he would have to blind not to notice."_

_Ili sighed. "There'll be no living with him after this." She glared at her familiar. "And you are positively foul."_

XXXXX

Ilivarra paid for her final drink and slipped outside of the bar. As she peered into one of the alleyways near the bar, she could see the human couple that had been dancing earlier. Now that she was closer, she could see that the girl was approximately fifteen years old. The man was at least twenty or thirty years older.

"Come on, kiss me." He urged, pushing her against a wall.

"I-I don't know. I-" she was cut off by his lips forcefully pressing against her mouth. His hands began to slide up her thighs and under her skirt, groping greedily. The girl responded by slapping him across the face. "I said stop it!"

He looked at her with utter shock. This was soon replaced by anger as he struck her across the face. "Don't you dare hit me!" While she was in a daze, the man shoved her against the wall, starting to undo the ties of her skirt. The girl let out a whimper, powerless to stop him.

He immediately froze as the cold iron of a kama was pressed against his throat.

"Get your fucking hands off her, asshole." Ilivarra hissed.

The man let go of the young girl, taking a step backwards with his hands held up to show that he was unarmed. "We were just having some fun."

Ili waited for the girl to move away before she lowered her kama. "A little lesson for you, dip shit. When a woman's crying like that, she's not having any fun. Get out of here before I change my mind about hurting you."

The man sneered at her. "Suck my cock."

Ili smiled. "Say that again."

"Suck my-" He never finished his sentence, for Ili's kama had buried itself it the front of his chest. She dragged the blade down to his navel and then yanked it out, causing stream of blood to spray onto the front of Ili's shirt.

"Lesson number two. Never insult someone who will kill you without a second thought." She spat, glaring at his corpse. The drow used the front of hisshirt to wipe the blood from her kama before turning around. The young girl stared at Ili, her blue eyes wide with amazement.

Ili raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"T-That was incredible. Could you teach me to do that?"

"I'm not much of a teacher-type. Though I will tell you this; Quit fucking around with older men and go home to your mother. Go on! Get!"

The girl scrambled to her feet and ran off. Ilivarra shook her head. _Fucking teenagers._

XXXXX

Hours later, Ilivarra was once again searching through her endless piles of scrolls. A smile curled her lips as she looked at another location. _I've found you._


	4. Chapter 4

m: "Won't Back Down" belongs to Fuel. And Hoar is the god of revenge.

Chapter Four

The Valsharess was reading a book on the subject of demon summoning when the doors to her throne room were thrown open. A female drow walked towards the throne, carrying a kukri and a war hammer in her hands.

The matron smiled. "Ilivarra, what a pleasant surprise."

"Cut the shit, Sinvyl." Ilivarra snapped. "I've spent four long years searching for you, and I WILL get my information. Give me the location of Korve Besair."

The Valsheress laughed. "And why would I break the confidentiality of one of my finest mercenaries?"

"Because if you don't, I have no qualms about splitting open your abdomen."

The Valsharess narrowed her eyes. "If you dare to fulfill that promise, then several hundred guards will rush in here and decapitate you without a second thought."

Ilivarra smiled grimly. "Do you think that frightens me? I've had all my reasons for living taken away from me. There's only one now and that's revenge. Death is nothing to be feared."

"You sound a bit like a worshiper of the surfacer god, Hoar." The Valsharess commented.

Ilivarra sneered. "I worship no god. My power comes from my own skills and abilities, not some divine being. I don't need to rely on them."

"I doubt that the Spider-queen would be pleased with such blasphemous words."

"She can kiss my mother-fucking ass." Ili spat.

The Valsharess stood up. She began pace the room, circling around Ili and smiling as she did so. "Korve certainly fulfilled his job. I can see that you still bear scars from him. Both physical and emotional."

"The physical ones will heal within a few decades. I want the emotional ones to heal faster."

Sinvyl smiled. "I like you, Barrindar. Your determination and spirit is truly remarkable. I sympathize with the great injustice Korve did to you."

"Which 'great injustice' are you talking about? There were quite a few if I recall correctly." Ilivarra snarled bitterly.

"The one I speak of is his raping you. I never intended for that to happen. In fact, I specifically ordered him not to."

Ili studied her for a long moment. "You're telling the truth." _That son of a bitch! _

"I would not lie about something like that. I truly do sympathize with your desire for justice."

Ilivarra let out a cold chuckle. "It's not justice I want. You see there is a very fine line between justice and vengeance. One that I am quite willing to cross in order to slit Korve Besair's throat. To put it simply, Korve fucked me over. I want to return the favor. I want vengeance."

Sinvyl was silent for a few seconds. A grin soon lit up her gorgeous features. "I propose that we make a deal. Become one of my red sisters, and after a few years of proving yourself I shall grant you Korve Besair's location."

Ilivarra burst out laughing. "Now why the fuck would I agree to that?" she asked between laughs.

Sinvyl narrowed her eyes. "Because even if you do manage to find his location without my help, you will not win against him. He is a skilled mercenary and it will be easy for him to defeat you once more. Think about it—Korve has always been a mercenary working for me, not against me. He has never fought a red sister before. You would have a huge advantage over him. This is your greatest opportunity, Ilivarra. Seize it."

Ilivarra frowned. She allowed herself to think for several minutes before responding. Was it worth it? It would mean joining the very people who had ruined her chance to start a new life on the surface. The image of a pair of cruel, black eyes suddenly formed in her mind. They were soon followed by a pair of anguished, brown eyes. Her decision was clear. "Very well," the drow said, her voice devoid of emotion, "I accept."

The Valsharess smiled. "Excellent. We shall begin preparing immediately. Step outside now. The guard will give you instructions on how to find the academy."

Sinvyl watched as Ilivarra left. Barrindar was still an animal to her, but she was a trainable beast. Sinvyl idly reflected on the irony that Guliara Barrindar had refused to work with her, yet her daughter was willing to do anything for her revenge. The Barrindars--or the females in any case--were well known for their determination, rage, and stubborness, each of these increased tenfold when they felt crossed by someone. This only made Ilivarra easier to manipulate. Ilivarra was a powerful woman, and Sinvyl was determined to make the last Barrindar her tool.

Ilivarra took the list of written instructions from the guard before walking out the door. As she walked, a vicious smile curled her lips. She was now one step closer to her revenge.

_I know what darkness means  
(and the void you left for me)  
The isolation stings  
(So think it wants to bleed)  
The echoes in my brain  
(Of the things you said to me)  
You took my everything  
Now I'm coming for you!_

Chorus:  
I won't back down  
I will not bow  
I've come to bring you hell  
I can't forget  
Things you did  
I've come to bring you hell

The shadows that you see  
(In the places that you sleep)  
Are memories of me  
(Better pray your soul to keep)  
The truth behind your eyes  
(You know that place you never see)  
Your darkest little lies  
Are coming for you!

Chorus

All the scars that never heal  
All the wounds that will not seal  
I will not forget the day  
These memories never fall

Chorus

I've come to bring you hell  
(I've come to bring you hell) x4  



	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Ilivarra walked down the hall of the building. The corridor was narrow and seemingly endless, but the drow knew better. She reached the end of the hallway, coming face-to-face with a blank stone wall. Ilivarra reached into her pocket and took out a small bag. She poured the contents—a fistful of strange red powder—onto her hands. She then used the powder to trace an elaborate symbol onto the wall. The symbol began to glow with crimson light, and the wall soon shattered.

Ilivarra stepped into the room. Five other students stood in the center of the room. One female drow stood on a platform, six more drow females surrounding her. Ilivarra assumed this particular drow was their head instructor. Two other females caught her attention. One for the look in her eyes that was cruel even for a drow, and the other for the black patch that covered her right eye.

"Vendui." The instructor greeted. "I am called Dilafae, and I am your head instructor." There was an eerie calm about her as she spoke, one that sent a shiver up Ili's spine. "You will all spend a term of five years at this academy. At the end of this term, the surviving student shall be graduated."

_Has the life of an assassin left her so cold and detached that she does not feel emotion anymore? _Ili wondered as Dilafae continued to speak. "During the term, you all shall spend half of the day with your instructor and the other half with other instructors. Their names are Akorlara, Molthrae, Gela, Urlnitra, Maya," she looked at the trainer with the black patch, "and Malice." she gestured to the cruel-looking woman.

Dilafae continued, "They will teach you as they see fit. I suggest that you obey them, for there are consequences if you do not." Her icy eyes surveyed the students. "We shall now hold a test to learn of your abilities. This test will allow us to grant you new names, and will allow our instructors to choose which of you they wish to train."

The test was simple. All the students were required to do was defeat a summoned bugbear. Ilivarra had decided to use her skills in the field of stealth to defeat the creature.

"Zar Baste." Dilafae said calmly as Ili finished. "Now that all of the names have been given, the instructors will chose. Malice, you will go first. Choose between Qee'lak Pielch, Su'aco Sunduiri, Fuer'yon Elggur, Olath Errdegahr, Renor Orbb, or Zar Baste."

Malice looked at the students, her cold gaze lingering longest on Ilivarra. "I choose Zar Baste!" She cried.

XXXXX

Ilivarra walked with Malice to her rooms. Malice stopped at a door and turned around, a glare adorning her face. "This is the entrance to the rooms." She led Ili into the first room. It was bare except for three rooms.

Malice began to speak, "We will use this room as a gymnasium. The first two doors lead to the weapon room and my personal quarters. You are not to go into either of them unless I say. If you do," Malice suddenly reached out and grabbed Ilivarra's throat. "The consequences will make you wish that Korve had killed you." Malice smiled as Ili's eyes widened. "Yes, I am well-aware of your past, Zar Baste." She released Ilivarra.

Ilivarra scowled and began rubbing her stinging neck. "If you know so much about me then why aren't you calling me by my name? It's Ilivarra by the way. But I understand how someone your age could forget."

With blinding speed, Malice spun around and punched Ilivarra in the stomach. The student involuntarily doubled over in pain, the wind knocked out of her. Malice roughly grabbed Ilivarra by the hair and slammed her against the wall. Ilivarra clenched her teeth, tasting blood in her mouth as waves of pain shot through her head.

The instructor gave her a furious look. "I'll call you whatever the fuck I want. If I say, 'Bring me a knife, cock-sucking whore!' then you say 'Yes, mistress.' Now then, " Malice released Ilivarra. "Would you like to see your room?" Her voice was little more than a whisper, her tone falsely sweet.

"Yes."

Malice slapped Ilivarra across the face. "YES WHAT?"

"Yes, Mistress." Ilivarra said from behind clenched teeth. _You fucking cunt._ Rage boiled in Ilivarra's veins. No one had dared speak to her in such a way in four years.

"Let us go then."

Malice opened the door to Ilivarra's room. Inside, there was no floor. There was only a large pit filled with sharp spikes. In the center of the room, there was a small wooden platform that rose away from the spikes, stopping halfway between the ceiling and the pit. The platform was only large enough for a single person to lie down on and for three or four people to stand up on.

Ilivarra raised her brows. "Lovely. I suppose you--"

Malice reached out and grabbed her tongue before she could finish. "How hard is it to get a message through your damn skull? IF YOU MAKE ONE MORE SMARTASS COMMENT I'LL CUT OUT YOUR FUCKING TONGUE!" She let Ilivarra go. "Your sleeping arrangements do not matter anyway. For the first few weeks, there will be no sleeping at all. You will do nothing but train for twenty-four hours a day. And if you start feeling drowsy then remember this; killing someone in their sleep is easier than converting oxygen into carbon dioxide."

Ilivarra glared at her, her eyes smoldering with rage.

"We must do something before we can begin training." Malice gestured for Ilivarra to follow her to the weapon room. Ilivarra obeyed.

"Sit down." Malice commanded.

Ilivarra sat in the chair.

"Now then, Zar Baste," Malice took a pair of scissors off of one of the shelves of the room. "We're going to cut your hair."

Ili's jaw dropped. She almost spoke but held her tongue just in time.

Malice smiled. "Just a little. It now reaches nearly to your midriff. I'll make it reach just past your shoulders. I'll also straighten it."

Ili gave her a look of pure resentment as Malice walked behind her. The instructor swiftly untied the two braids that adorned Ilivarra's hair before turning around and grabbing a large object. Ili let out a shout of surprise as Malice dumped a bowl of ice-cold water on her head. The teacher smiled. "Oh I'm sorry. I should have warned you." She took out a comb and began to brush Ili's silver locks. "Such pretty hair. It almost seems shameful to cut."

Ili frowned, uneasiness coursing through her.

"Yes…a pair of rather sharp scissors are needed for your locks. As sharp as…oh I don't know, perhaps the weapons that gave you those scars on your face."

Ilivarra gritted her teeth. _Shut up. Shut the hell up._

Malice chuckled and took out a pair of scissors. "I'd say these scissors could cut through adamantine if necessary. Something as soft as your hair will be simple to cut." She smiled. "I'll bet that bard of yours must have loved your hair. What was his name? Oh yes. Corran. I'll bet you loved the touch of his hands on your scalp. His hands must have been calloused from the musical instruments he played, but surprisingly soft when laced through your hair. Slowly running through your white locks until they reached your back, sliding down the smooth skin. Going lower and lower until you let out a gasp of pleasure."

Ilivarra clenched her fists, her nails digging into her skin and drawing blood.

Malice smirked. "You can say something, if you'd like."

"Is there a point to this?" Ili growled.

"All I wish to do is talk with you, Zar Baste. Harmless speech. Though you will share none of it, and be silent from now on." Malice said sharply before continuing.

A vicious smile curled the trainer's lips. "But of course, that feeling of pleasure was soon turned to pain wasn't it? The pain of despair, resentment, and agony as another touched you like that. This was a man you hated, yet he penetrated you in the same way as Corran. The pain you felt as Korve forced himself upon you was frightening, wasn't it? Or perhaps your reaction was merely a cover-up. Perhaps you secretly did not feel violated at all. The act which was committed upon you was not true violation at all. Perhaps you were secretly thrilled that another man wanted you badly enough to take you by force. Perhaps you enjoyed the rape."

This was the final straw. "You better shut your fucking mouth before I—AAAHHH!" Ilivarra cried out as the scissors sliced her cheek.

Malice shook her head. "I told you the scissors were sharp. You should not have attempted to turn around. No matter. You're finished now."

Ilivarra looked into the mirror that Malice had handed her. She saw that her hair was completely straight and fell just past her shoulders. She shot Malice a furious glare, no longer attempting to hide her anger.

A smile curled Malice's lips. "You're angry. I can see that. Come with me." Malice led her back into the gym. The instructor handed the student two knives. "If you can land a single blow on me then I will bow down and call you 'Mistress'. Now get busy, Zar Baste."

Ilivarra cautiously approached Malice. She swung her blade but Malice avoided it easily. Ilivarra attempted to strike once but Malice dodged again.

"Terrible! Absolutely terrible! I'm amazed that a weak fighter such as you managed to survive for four years after being buried alive!" Malice cried.

Ilivarra snarled and increased the ferocity of her attacks. _I am not weak! I will be strong! I am strong! No one will dare tell me otherwise!_

But it was of no use, for Malice continued to evade her attacks. "Hmph! Do you honestly think that you can defeat a mercenary such as Besair? You will never be strong enough!"

"Yes I will." Ilivarra snapped.

Malice hid a smile at her student's remark. Though she would never admit it, she was impressed. Ilivarra was impudent and unstable, every bit the animal the Valsharess had described her as. The woman fought like a wounded animal, determined to survive and filled with the rage of a devil. But Malice knew that this beast could be tamed, and transformed into a merciless bringer of death and destruction.

Ili aimed another slash at Malice. Malice avoided the attack, but the tie holding back her hair into a silver bun fell out as she moved.

Ilivarra smirked. "Look's like you're missing a hair tie."

"Looks like you're missing a child."

Utter rage filled Ilivarra's veins. She let out a scream of anger and attacked Malice. The instructor laughed as she continued to dodge. "Come on, childless mother! Fight me!"

Ilivarra continued to rain furious attacks on Malice. The instructor finally grew bored and decided to end it. With incredible ease, she knocked the knives out of Ilivarra's hands. She then tripped Ili and grabbed one of her arms, twisting it behind her back.

Ilivarra let out an involuntary scream of pain. Malice smiled. "Excruciating isn't it? ISN'T IT?" she bellowed, twisting Ilivarra's arm even more.

"YES!" Ilivarra cried.

"I could easily cut off your arm right now if I wanted to."

"DON'T YOU DARE!"

Malice cackled. "It's my arm now. I can do whatever the fuck I want with it!" She smiled. "You're helpless when you fight against me, aren't you?" She twisted it more. "AREN'T YOU?"

"YES!"

"Have you ever felt like this before?"

"YES!"

"It's like being at Korve's mercy again isn't it?"

"YES!"

"Would you like to possess such power? To be able to use it against your enemies and make them suffer the way that you have?"

"Yes!"

Malice released Ilivarra and allowed her to fall to the ground, clutching her arm in pain. "Excellent. We shall begin immediately. Are you ready, Zar Baste?"

Ilivarra's amethyst eyes locked with Malice's crimson.

"Yes." 


	6. Chapter 6

AM: 'Mockingbird' belongs to Eminem.

Chapter Six

"Wake up, stupid bitch!" Malice shouted as she sparred with Ilivarra. "You will die before your first mission if you continue such sloppy work!"

"Well, it's a bit hard to be alert if you haven't slept in two weeks." Ilivarra spat, blocking Malice's attacks.

"Pathetic. You disgust me, childless mother."

Ilivarra suppressed the anger she felt at that name, continuing to spar against Malice.

An hour later, Malice stopped. "You may rest now, Zar Baste. Go take a break. But should you sleep, you will suffer before you can even begin to dream."

Ilivarra nodded and walked away, rubbing her eyes to keep from falling asleep.

She walked out the door of Malice's wing of the academy, intending to go to the kitchen for some food. Dilafae was on her way to see Malice and was making her way down the hall.

Ilivarra accidentally bumped into her. "My apologies, Great Mistress."

"Do not worry about it, Zar Baste." Dilafae said in the same emotionless voice.

As Ilivarra started to leave, her sense of danger screamed in her mind. She ducked just in time to see Dilafae's dagger swing past her head.

Not a flicker of emotion had appeared on Dilafae's face. "I see that Malice has been training you well." Those were her last words as she sheathed her dagger and continued towards Malice's chambers.

Ilivarra blinked. _Crazy bitch…_

XXXXX

Awhile later, Ilivarra sat in her 'room.' Finishing off her seventh cup of coffee, she took a puff of her cocaine cigarette. Ili had been using a variety of drinks, potions, and drugs to keep herself awake over the past several weeks. But nothing could shake the constant exhaustion she felt.

_Malice is out of her fucking mind. _Ili idly remembered one of the events that had happened in the past several days.

_"Move, Zar Baste! Faster! FASTER!" _

Ili gritted her teeth and continued to rain blows upon the combat dummy.

"You make me want to break down and cry like an infant! People with no arms can hit harder than you can!"

Ilivarra merely pursed her lips and continued to practice.

"Didn't you hear me? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Ili took a deep breath in an attempt to bite back her anger.

"The mental retardation in this room is like the planet. It has a crust, a mantle, and a core. You, Zar Baste, are the core."

"Well if I'm the core, then you're the sun. I revolve around you and receive my retardation from you." Ili snapped.

Malice narrowed her eyes. Before Ili could react, Malice gave her a swift kick in the buttocks.

"OW! Dammit, Malice! I'm gonna have a bruise on my ass the size of a catapult!" Ili snapped.

"Good. It'll match the other proportions." Malice declared.

Ili seethed.

She finished off the cigarette and tossed it down into the spikes pits below. Her eyelids began to droop. I_ can't…fall…asleep…zzzzzz…._

XXXXX

Ili walked through a shadowy plane. She was quite familiar with the place, for it was the plane of her dreams, the place where her darkest nightmares and wildest ideas resided.

A figure appeared ahead. It was Corran, standing above a baby crib. Reaching inside, the bard took out a small bundle that Ilivarra assumed was Amalaere.

Corran smiled and began to sing softly.

_Now hush little baby, don't you cry  
Everything's gonna be alright  
Stiffen that upper lip up little lady, I told ya  
Daddy's here to hold ya through the night  
I know mommy's not here right now and we don't know why  
We feel how we feel inside  
It may seem a little crazy, pretty baby  
But I promise momma's gon' be alright_

Corran looked up and grinned at Ili. "You wanna see her?"

Ili's heart filled with a warmth that she had not felt in a long time. Nodding enthusiastically, she began walking towards Corran. Ili abruptly cried out as a sharp stab of pain entered her shoulder. Corran and Amalaere left her vision, soon replaced by the ceiling of her room. When she looked at her shoulder, she saw that a throwing dagger was embedded in her flesh. The drow let out a furious snarl and pulled the weapon out. "What the fuck?"

"I warned you against falling asleep, childless mother!" a voice screamed.

Ili snapped her head around just in time to see Malice return to the gymnasium. Pure rage coursed through Ilivarra's veins. Her chance to finally see her little daughter had been taken from her. Even if it was a fleeting glimpse, that was worth more to Ili than all the gold in the Underdark.

She quickly jumped across the pit, ran into the room and attacked Malice. Her fury echoed in her every blow, her mind screaming and begging for her to tear Malice apart.

Malice let out a laugh as she blocked Ilivarra's attacks. "That's it, Zar Baste! Let your anger guide you! You want to kill me! Now do it!"

Ilivarra let out a scream of fury and attempted to punch Malice in the stomach. A pang of surprise hit the trainer. She could have sworn that for a moment, her student's eyes changed from amethyst to deep crimson. It was gone as soon as she saw it, and Malice did not have time to reflect as Ili aimed another punch at her.

Malice avoided the blow and grabbed Ilivarra by the front of her shirt and slammed her against the wall, pinning her student in. Ilivarra butted Malice's head and escaped her grasp.

Malice felt her forehead and smiled as droplets of blood appeared on her hand. "You've improved, Zar Baste."

Going into a defensive pose, Ilivarra bellowed, "Come on, you screeching sack of shit. Fight me!"

Malice chuckled. "But you haven't excelled enough." She deftly slammed her palm into Ili's face, used her other hand to break some of Ilivarra's ribs, and finally kicked Ilivarra in the stomach, sending her flying. Malice smiled at Ili's unmoving body, slumped against the wall. Surprise replaced her amusement at the sight of Ilivarra beginning to move.

The student staggered to the ground, raising her shaking fists. "Attack me some more. I'm not dead yet." Her breathing was heavy and ragged as she spoke.

Malice once again attacked Ilivarra, slamming her head against the wall and breaking one of her arms.

Ili shouted a fireball spell and wore a satisfied grin at the pure shock in Malice's expression as she was slammed against the wall.

"You did not tell me that you possessed arcane magic. Neither did Matron Sinvyl." Malice smiled. "I am glad that you are truly able to throw your cunning into a fight. However, it will not be of much use here." She ran forward and tackled Ilivarra to the ground, breaking her legs and arms. Ili attempted to stand up but a painful kick to her already damaged skull stopped her. The adrenaline left her veins, and she lay on the ground, defeated.

Kneeling next to her, Malice murmured, "You fought well, Zar Baste. You may truly rest now. I will give you three hours. Then we may even see about getting those wounds of yours healed." She gave Ili one last cruel smile. Malice walking away was the last thing Ilivarra saw before slipping into unconsciousness.


	7. Chapter 7

m: Special thanks to the movie, "Hannibal".

fine and dandy: My thanks for your praise. :D As for the expletives, yes I know that I could get the story across without them but the story is meant to be generally off-putting so I'm afraid that they are going to stay. Thank you for your suggestion though. :)

Chapter Seven

Six months had passed since Ilivarra began training to be an assassin. Her first test was only two days away and she was quite busy preparing.

"HIT!" Malice shouted.

Ilivarra obediently aimed a blow at the combat dummy's torso. This was a standard drill, used to ensure that Ili's punches were flawless.

"HIT!" Malice screamed again, watching as Ilivarra slammed her fist into the dummy's stomach.

The exercise continued for precisely one hour and thirty minutes. Finally, Malice lowered her voice and said, "That is enough, Zar Baste. You have met my standards for today. Go to your afternoon classes."

Ilivarra nodded and left the room.

Awhile later Ilivarra stood in her classroom along with four other students. Qee'lak Pielch had been killed two months earlier. All of the students and teachers were certain that Renor Orbb had killed her, but they neglected to say anything about the matter.

Molthrae stood in the center of the room. She held a sickle in each of her hands, their blades appearing sharp and deadly. "We shall hold skirmishes to see how each of you has progressed in the use of the sickle. Zar Baste, you will fight Renor Orbb."

Ilivarra took the sickle and went into an action-ready stance. Renor did the same.

"Begin!" Molthrae cried.

Renor lunged at Ilivarra, the sound of blades meeting ringing clearly throughout the room as Ilivarra blocked. Ili pivoted on her left foot to avoid one of Renor's attacks and swung at Renor's head. Renor ducked before attempting to strike Ili's shins. Ilivarra jumped to dodge the strike before aiming an attack of her own at Renor's torso. Renor parried the blow and slashed at Ili's face. She managed to open up a cut near Ilivarra's left eyebrow, grinning as fresh blood dripped from the wound.

A memory flashed before Ilivarra's eyes.

_"I'm disappointed, little cunt. You still haven't screamed yet." Korve declared._

The drow shot him a defiant glare. You will never have the pleasure of seeing me scream for you, _she thought angrily._

The mercenary unclipped the sickle on his belt. He grinned at Ilivarra and held the weapon only centimeters away from her face. "Perhaps we should give you another talking-to with my good friend here." He began to slowly cut her face, smiling as she gritted her teeth in pain and determination not to cry out.

The half-drow continued until her face was little more than a mask of crimson blood. "How you feel now? Do you wanna scream? It's the perfect way for ya to express your agony, your sorrow, your terror, and your hate for me. Come on. Do it."

Ilivarra's violet eyes locked with Korve's jet black. "No, you asshole." she growled.

Korve scowled. "Alright." He brought up his right foot and kicked Ilivarra in the face. She turned her head to face him, the defiance never leaving her glare.

Korve smiled cruelly. "Your choice." He unclipped a second sickle. "Now bleed, bitch. Bleed…"

A snarl formed on Ilivarra's face. She glared at Renor, savage rage clear in her amethyst eyes. The drow let out a growl of hate before resuming her offense, her attacks far more brutal than before. Renor was taken aback by the ferocity of her opponent's blows, trying desperately to dodge the dangerous attacks.

Ilivarra finally swung her sickle with so much force that Renor's weapon was yanked out of her grip. Ili held her sickle to Renor's throat, grinning with the anticipation of a kill.

"That's enough." Molthrae commanded. "You have done well, Zar Baste. Renor Orbb, you must not be caught off guard next time. It will cost you your life."

XXXXX

Ilivarra stepped out of the classroom. She began her walk back to Malice's quarters only to be stopped by Renor Orbb. Ili arched an eyebrow at the younger drow and walked past her, continuing down the hallway.

Renor narrowed her eyes at Ili's retreating back. "You just got lucky, Baste. I should have won. And I still can."

Ili turned around. "Is that a challenge?"

"Maybe it is."

"Name the time and place."

"Tonight at midnight. The roof of the Beholder's Eye Inn. It's a svirf inn, we won't be bothered. Come alone."

Ilivarra smirked. "I'll be there. And I'll be alone. Which I'm sure is more than a weak and cowardly elg'caress such as you can say. Yes, Orbb, I know about the mercenaries you employed to help you take out Pielch. Did you really need assistance to dispose of such a bumbling fool such as her? You truly are pathetic." She shook her head. "It's a shame that I'll have to dirty my blades with the blood of one so unworthy as you."

"You'll pay for those words." Renor hissed.

"Empty words. If your combat skills tonight are anything like your threats, then slaughtering you will be simpler than convincing a retarded orc to eat his own shit. Which is what I imagine your words will taste like when I make you eat them tonight." Ili walked away, not giving Renor a chance to retort.

XXXXX

Ilivarra crept through the alleys of the city, heading towards the inn. _Sneaking out of the academy was easy. Almost too easy…Oh well, I'll deal with that later._ She reached the inn and began to scale the wall up to the roof.

Renor was waiting for her, a dark scythe clasped in her black hands. Ili wore a slight smile on her face and unsheathed her twin daggers. "Ready?"

Renor Orbb roared a battle cry and swung her scythe at Ilivarra. Ili dodged, aiming a kick at Renor in an attempt to knock her down. Renor jumped to avoid this and tried to ram the butt of her spear into Ili's ribs. The drow did a cartwheel to avoid the weapon and shouted a magic missile spell. Renor dodged the spell and ran towards Ili, intending to behead her.

Their battle continued for over an hour, neither of the drow females gaining an advantage. Ili blocked another attack, her eyes widening when she realized that her left side was exposed. Renor took advantage of this by abandoning her scythe and pulling a dagger out of her boot, plunging it into Ilivarra's chest.

Ilivarra sank to her knees, her breathing harsh and heavy. Renor smiled, knowing that Ili would not live for long. To her shock, Ilivarra smiled. Ili took advantage of Renor's astonishment and knocked her to the ground. She quickly pinned her arms behind her back, rendering Renor helpless.

"I don't understand." Renor whispered as Ilivarra began to bind her hands and legs. "How are you alive? No one can survive for long as you have if they've been stabbed in the heart! You're not even weakening!"

Ilivarra chuckled. "There's a logical reason for that. And it's perfectly natural, nothing to do with my magic."

"You should be dead! It's been ten minutes! Your corpse should be lying at my feet! Tell me how you're alive!" Renor screamed.

Ilivarra slipped a gag over her mouth. "That's my little secret." She took out another rope and fastened it around the drow's neck.

Ilivarra dragged the drow to the edge of the roof, forcing her to stand up. "Bowels in or bowels out?" she whispered.

Renor gave her a furious glare.

Ilivarra grinned. "You know what? I'll decide." She swiftly disemboweled Renor and pushed her off the roof. A scream was heard from below as Renor's corpse hung from the roof by the rope around her neck, her entrails spilling onto the ground below.

"Oh my gods!" a female voice screamed.

"Is she dead?" A male voice yelled.

"That's just…SICK!" A different female voice cried.

Ili put on a malicious grin before turning around with the intention of heading back to the academy.

XXXXX

"It seems that Renor Orbb has been disposed of." Malice idly noted the next day.

"Really? How did she die?" Ili asked.

"Disembowelment and a broken neck. Her corpse was hanging from a svirf inn."

Ilivarra shook her head. "She should have known better than to venture out on her own like that. Her death is proof of how strong the hate that the svirfs hold for the drow truly is."

Malice gave Ilivarra an amused look.

Ili arched an eyebrow at Malice before leaving the room.

Malice smiled viciously. "Well done, Zar Baste. Well done." 


	8. Chapter 8

fine and dandy: LOL. Yes, I admit I was thinking about 'Hannibal' when I was writing that. A lot of my ideas come from movies. :D

Chapter Eight

It was the day before Ilivarra's graduation. Five grueling years had been dedicated to her training, and the drow was more than ready to leave the academy. As she sat in front of Malice's chambers and waited for her teacher to give her the details of her final test, several memories of years floated through her mind.

_Ilivarra sat in her 'room.' It had been a long day, and she was happy to finally relax. She had just lit a cigarette when Malice appeared at the entrance to the room. The trainer's crimson eyes widened when she saw the cigarette. "ZAR BASTE!" She screamed. _

With strength Ili didn't know her teacher possessed, Malice leaped across the pit, knocked the cigarette out of Ili's hand, grabbed Ili by the arm, leapt back across the pit, and began to drag the student out of the chambers.

Malice finally stopped dragging Ilivarra when she reached the roof of the academy. Ili let out a yelp of surprise as Malice grabbed her ankles and dangled her off of the roof.

"What is the one thing that I hate above all things?"

"Wavy hair? Women with bigger boobs than you? Me? I'm stumped." Ili said dryly.

Malice snarled and let go of Ili's leg. Ili barely had time to cry out before Malice reached out and grabbed her right ankle, stopping her fall. "WHAT IS THE ONE THING I HATE ABOVE ALL OTHER THINGS, ZAR BASTE?" Malice roared.

"Weakness."

"And what is smoking, Zar Baste?"

"Weakness." Ili said from behind clenched teeth.

"And what are you going to do about it?"

"Quit."

"Good." Malice pulled her onto the roof. "Or else I won't catch you next time."

Ili looked down at the twenty-story fall and frowned.

Malice stepped out of her room and stood in front of Ili.

Ili nodded to her. "What is my final test?"

Malice smiled cruelly. "Dilafae wishes for you to run one final obstacle course, but I have a test that is far more suited to your abilities."

"Go on."

"You will help me overthrow Dilafae, Zar Baste. I shall become the new head trainer and I will graduate you."

"What's to stop me from telling Dilafae about your treachery?"

Malice chuckled. "Very good, Zar Baste. You haven't forgotten what I taught you about the art of deception. However, you have forgotten about NEVER REVEALING YOUR PLANS TO A POTENTIAL ENEMY!" She reached out and slapped Ili across the face.

Ili knew better than to try to block the blow. An uneasiness settled over her,not because of the blow. She rarely slipped up now, but when she did, Malicewould be sure to catch on._Your heart is stained with love and trust,_ Malice had told her student. Ili needed to erase it from her soul for the sake of her new career. But for now, her attention was focused on Malice's words.

"You will benefit greatly from this. You will gain experience that will be necessary for fighting Besair. You will gain status within the academy, the opportunity of becoming a trainer will be open to you someday. But no doubt you are most interested in the fact that I can convince our great Valsharess to give you Besair's location more quickly than you could ever hope to receive while under Dilafae's command."

Ilivarra surveyed Malice for several seconds. The younger drow slowly nodded. "Tell me your plan then."

"Come into my chambers. I will explain it in detail."

XXXXX

Ilivarra crept towards Dilafae's chambers. She had been surprised at how effective Malice's plan was. She had successfully managed to dissuade most of the other lesser trainers from siding with Dilafae. Maya was the only one who refused to join with Malice. The lesser instructor was currently guarding the room that Dilafae was supposedly in. Ili's mission was to dispose of Maya.

Maya stood outside the room, waiting for Ilivarra. Her two knives were unsheathed, and her single navy blue eye bored into Ili.

Ili took out her own knives. "Maya."

Maya nodded. "Zar Baste."

They slowly began to circle each other. Without warning, Maya struck at Ili. Ili quickly dodged. She knew that Maya was faster and more experienced than her, and that she would have to be as cautious as possible in this fight.

Maya aimed another blow at Ili. Ilivarra dodged this blow as well. They continued their graceful performance for some time, landing only a few blows with neither drow weakening.

"There's something I've been wondering, Maya." Ili said as she circled her former teacher.

"What is it?"

"What exactly did you say to Malice that provoked her into taking out your eye?"

Maya smiled bitterly. "I called her a weak, fucked-up cunt."

Ilivarra winced. "Just had to throw in 'weak' didn't you?"

"You know what I gonna do?" Maya asked.

Ili tightened her grasp on her blades. "Tell me."

"I'm gonna kill that weak, fucked-up cunt. Right after I kill you. Because you are every bit the cunt Malice is."

Ili chuckled. "I suppose that means Malice did an excellent job of training me." She quickly swung at Maya's head.

Maya used both of her daggers to block Ili's blade. "Yes, but not well enough."

With an incredible burst of speed, Ilislammed her knee intoMaya's exposed abdomen. While the trainer was caught off guard,she held up one bladeto block any potential attacks andplunged her other dagger into Maya's remaining eye. "I think you're wrong about that." she said calmly.

Maya let out a shriek. "YOU CUNT! FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING CUNT FROM HELL!" She clutched at her bleeding eye socket, sobbing hysterically at the total loss of her eyes. The tears she shed only worsened the pain, causing her to scream even more. "DAMN YOU! YOU ASS-FUCKING BITCH!"

Ili watched coldly as the trainer snarled and looked for her former student, soon growing tired of Maya's shrill cries of rage. She cast a quick strength spell, then slammed her fist into Maya's face, rendering the blinded drow unconscious. Ili smirked at Maya's unmoving form. "Who's the weak, fucked-up cunt now?"

XXXXX

Hours later, Malice, the other instructors, and Ili stood in front of Maya and Dilafae.

Malice spoke, "The fates of Maya and Dilafae have been decided. Maya shall be spared from death. She will now continue her life with the aspects of blindness, suffering, and complete understanding of the concept of loyalty to me alone. Dilafae however, shall suffer a death at my hands."

She forced Dilafae to kneel in front of her. Dilafae did so, her face remaining as cold as always. Malice slowly split her abdomen open, grinning at the torrents of blood that spilled from the wound. Dilafae did not cry out, nor did she say a single word. The defeated head instructor was silent throughout the whole ordeal, even when Malice reached inside the wound and ripped out her intestines.

Malice took out a scroll and cast a spell. She smiled as the body of Dilafae rose to the ceiling. A loud crack was heard as Dilafae's arms twisted around themselves, causing wounds serious enough to make the bones cut through and stick out from her dark flesh. Her own limbs were what tied her to the ceiling, but she still did not cry out. Malice stood underneath Dilafae. She jumped and grabbed the sides of Dilafae's open wound, pulling it so that it grew even larger and several of Dilafae's internal organs spilled out, soon followed by a small storm of blood. Malice grinned maliciously as the scarlet liquid covered her, taking pride in her new status as a teacher as well as the brutality of the kill she had just inflicted.

Ili looked up at the now dead former instructor. Dilafae had remained silent throughout the entire process of her death, her expression never changing from her customary icy and emotionless mask. Even in death, the expression remained. An involuntary shiver ran up Ili's spine, one of the many shivers that Ili had experienced in the presence of the former head instructor. The shivers occurred when Dilafae was alive, and would continue after her death.


	9. Chapter 9

m: Just so y'all know, updates are most likely going be extremely slow. Mostly due to lack of inspiration and interest.

fine and dandy: Yes, I admit I loved writing the ending scene in particular. It makes me wish I were a better artist. That way I could make a poster of Dilafae's desecrated body hanging from her own limbs, put the caption "Stay in school." underneath, then hang it up in some elementary school…

CoeurDeFurie: Thank you. I admit I came up with the system by piecing together bits and pieces of Pai Mei's methods, things I elearned from Nat's dialogs, imagination, sith training methods, and my old middle school gym class. Just kidding about that last part. ;)

Chapter Nine

The black mask fit perfectly on her dark face. A smile that was as dark as her skin curled Ilivarra's lips as she approached the fortress. The assassin felt confident. A year had passed since her graduation from the academy, and all of her missions had been extremely successful. This one would be no different.

Ili whispered a spell. Her fingertips glowed with violet light for a split second before returning to normal. She placed her hands on the wall and began to scale it, her spelled fingers allowing her to climb without true support.

Several hours later, the drow stopped at a window, bars preventing anyone from entering and exiting. Ili whispered another spell and took a deep breath. The assassin slowly exhaled on the bars, grinning slightly as the iron melted. She carefully slid through the makeshift entrance, taking care to be as silent as possible.

Ilivarra crept through the halls, scanning the corridors for possible threats. Her keen ears picked up the sounds of swords clashing ahead. She cast an invisibility spell as a precaution and walked into the next room.

Two drow males fought against each other. It was a spar, the older trying to teach the younger a new style of fighting. A memory flashed before Ili's eyes.

_The young Ili let out a frustrated snarl as she left her right arm exposed again. "Gods dammit!" she cursed, lowering the sword. "What am I doing wrong!"_

The drow male sheathed his sword as well. "Generally, the mistake seems to lie in the way you keep accidentally dropping your sword. Maybe it's just me, but I've always thought that actually having...you know...a sword...when sword-fighting is a big help." He teased gently.

The male's young sister glared at him.

He smiled. "Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it, Little Amethyst." He assured her.

Ili rolled her eyes. "Easy for you to say. You've been a weapon master for over a century, Jyserin." She glared at him again. "And stop calling me that nickname. I grew out of it."

Jyserin shook his head at his younger sister. "Do you want to learn or not?"

"Would I risk the wrath of our slutty mother for something I didn't care about?" Ili asked bitterly, remembering how her mother had forcefully declared that Ili was to learn only one style of fighting. The Sargh'elgg style was custom for most wizards, but Ili wanted to know more ways of defending herself besides her magic.When she informed her mother of this, the matron had refused, going so far as to strike Ili to reinforce her decision.

"You should not speak of Guliara that way." Jyserin warned.

"If the bitch could hear us then we wouldn't be here, now would we?" Ili shot back.

Jyserin frowned. He understood why his little sister wanted to protect herself. After all, it was he that found her after the event that took place when she was four years of age. The incident had scarred the young child, leaving her with a hate for Guliara so powerful that it frightened the weapon master. He cared about her, even though drow society would allow him to have any sort of family bond with his young sister. Not openly anyway.

Ili stood up. "Let's continue."

Jyserin smiled. "Of course." Little Amethyst, _Jyserin thought to himself._

Ilivarra skillfully moved through the room, but the memories continued. It wasn't until after he died that Ili realized how close she was to him. He looked after her when she was young, secretly training her in everything he knew as a weapon master. It was because of his training that Ili went into the red sister order with an already excellent weapon lore.

Jyserin was not the only sibling she cared about. Ilivarra had been the wean-mother to her young sister, Adintal. She was a charming and mildly innocent child, but lost her innocence when she went on to become a sorceress. Another memory formed in Ili's mind.

_A violet-eyed female drow stood before a crimson-eyes female drow. The second could have passed for the first's twin, were her eyes not scarlet and her hair not straighter. A young girl--no more than 5 years old--stood in the corner of the room. Her green eyes watched with curious interest as the crimson-eyed began to speak. "Patron Neeraufein is dead. His life was taken from him in the previous raid of the surface. I thought it necessary to inform the two of you."_

She narrowed her eyes at the purple-eyed female. "I wish it had been you." she hissed.

The violet-eyed drow clenched her fist behind her back. "Is there anything else you wish for, Matron Guliara?"

Guliara glared at her. "Take Adintal and get out." She growled.

As the two drow females walked down the hall, the child began to speak. "So our father is dead?"

"He's not our father." The violet-eyed drow declared. She knew perfectly well that her little sister was the incestuous product of her mother and older brother. She was also aware that her brother had not participated willingly.

"But he's Mother's husband."

"That doesn't make him our father. And don't call her mother."

"But she gave birth to us, Ili."

"That doesn't make her our mother, Adin." The amethyst-eyed drow said bitterly.

The child was silent for a minute before saying, "Why did she say such mean things to you?"

"She hates me."

"Why? Is it because she's not your mother?"

The older chuckled. "Perhaps so."

The child remained quiet as they continued to walk. She reached up and held her older sister's hand as they took their steps. Though she knew that she should have broken this hold, the older did not. A rare smile crossed her face as she gazed upon her younger sister. Sometimes I wish I could be the mother that neither one of us had..., _the young woman thought._

Ili cautiously and quietly slipped into the room. The matron slept peacefully in her bed, the promise of peaceful dreams clear on her features. Ili made sure that her cloak hid her features and took out a knife. The weapon was a fine piece of steel, expensive and elaborate. A symbol rested on the hilt. It was the symbol of House Yzasf, a rival of House Barri'tar and Matron Sinvyl.

The assassin slashed the matron's throat so quickly that she did not have a chance to scream. Ili made several more injuries on the matron's body, ensuring her death. The wizard was well-aware of the quivering goblin slave hiding in the far corner. A cunning and vicious smile curled Ili's lips. She would not kill him, for he was the witness she needed to frame House Yzasf.

Ili slipped out of the room, as quiet leaving as she was entering.

---

The assassin stealthily scaled the tall building. She removed the magical locks on one of the windows of the thirtieth floor and entered the room. The small apartment was bare of any real decoration, for the owner had not had the time or the patience to decorate the place.

The tired Ili removed her armor and hung it up in the closet. She trudged towards the bed, intending to rest after her wearisome mission. As she slid under the covers, more memories of her family formed in her mind. Jyserin had died when she was nearing her third century of life. He had been slain in a drow raid. All of her other siblings had perished with Matron Guliara in the fall of House Barrindar. She had not cared too much. Except for perhaps Adin. But in a way, Adin had been dead to her for a long time.

The image of her mother formed. Matron Guliara was a beautiful woman. Incredible crimson eyes, a face that could have been carved from marble, sensuous lips, hair like spun silver. Yet, she was as twisted on the inside as she was gorgeous on the outside.

Ili narrowed her eyes. She had loathed her mother intensely. Guliara was abusive, hateful, and manipulative. She cared for no one but herself, and thought nothing of using her children in her games of power.

Another memory flashed before Ili's eyes. It was one of her first six kills.

_A young girl--approximately four years old—held a bloody knife in one hand. Her eyes held wonder, fear, and distress. Wonder for the violet flames that danced between her fingers, distress at the bloody corpses in front of her, and fear for what would happen next._

A woman entered the room. She looked almost exactly like the young girl, only her eyes were scarlet and her hair was straighter. Her crimson gaze went from imperious and arrogant to surprised to furious all in the same second. "What did you do!" she screamed at the girl.

The girl's amethyst eyes went wide with fear. The panic and terror was clear in her voice as she cried, "Please, mo--matron! I...I had no choice! They were-"

The woman cut her off by grabbing her throat. "I don't want to hear it, ilbith! What in the world makes you think that your life is worth more than those of six slaves! You stupid little bitch!"

She grabbed the girl's wrist tightly enough to draw blood, ignoring the girl's protests of pain as she dragged her into another room. Sadism glittered in the woman's eyes as she pushed the girl against the wall. "I should have crushed your skull the day you were born, my daughter." the matron hissed.

The woman continued to restrain the girl and took a hammer off of one of the tables. The young girl screamed in pain as her mother nailed her hands to the wall. The mother let her daughter go, sure that she was helpless to escape. The matron took a whip off of the table. One head burned with flames. The other was shaped like the head of a snake.

The woman slit the back of the girl's shirt open, exposing her dark back. The girl had stopped crying by then, deciding to take her punishment with silence. Her mother raised the whip and strucks the girl, smiling with malicious pleasure at every wound she created.

The girl continued to shut her eyes, refusing to give her mother the satisfaction of hearing her cry out once more. 

Ili shut her eyes tightly. _She's dead, Ilivarra. She's dead._


	10. Chapter 10

Kaelar: Glad you like it! True, it's no fairy tale (I am purposely ignoring the Grimm fairy tales) but it's good to know that you enjoy it. Thanks again.

Chapter Ten

Captain Bryans frowned as he read through his reports. Bryans had been the captain of the entire force of guards in the city of Moralliansor for over two decades, but he had never seen anything as what the reports listed. The reports spoke of another gruesome killing, the fourth that week. The victims were varied. Men, women, children, senior citizens—all kinds of people made up the deceased. The only thing they had in common was a pre-mortem or post-mortem carving of a skull somewhere on their form.

_Twenty years I haven't had a single serious problem. But now this blasted creature comes and wrecks everything_, the frustrated captain thought. Bryans had been planning on retiring that year and moving out of the mixed city of Moralliansor and the realm of the Underdark, to spend the rest of his life in a peaceful place on the surface with his wife. But the possibility of a rising serial killer had put his plans on hold.

A knock was heard at the door. "Come in," Bryans said without looking up from his report.

A fair-skinned and dark-haired young half-elf entered the room. Bryans recognized him as Clark Sparrow. A relatively new recruit, Sparrow had graduated from his academy only a few months before. Bryans believed that Sparrow had great potential, but it was hindered by his ability to be brash and impulsive. Bryans held onto the hope that the young man would grow out of it with age.

"Permission to speak, Sir." Sparrow requested.

"Permission granted."

"There's been another killing, Sir."

Bryans sighed. "How many this time?"

"One woman and a man."

The captain frowned. _That makes fifty-six dead in total._

"The woman's husband was present as well. For some reason, the murderess let him live." Sparrow added.

Bryans' eyes widened. "Take me to see him."

"He's right outside, Sir."

Bryans started to get up but stopped and looked at Sparrow. "The killer is a woman?"

"The man identified his assailant as a female, Sir."

Bryans nodded. "Be sure to notify Parker of such information."

"Yes."

Bryans gave Sparrow a perturbed look.

"Yes, Sir." Sparrow added, a bit sheepishly.

The captain entered the room where the witness waited. The survivor had been blinded, a large bandage covering the area where his eyes had once been. He had many recently healed scars, but one stood out; a carving of a skull.

The victim did not turn to face Bryans as he said, "I guess you wish to know what happened?"

Bryans nodded. "Tell me everything you can."

A lump formed in the man's throat, but he could not cry.

---

Several hours before his interrogation by the guards, Derek smiled at Melissa. Melissa smiled back at her husband, and grinned as her young daughter ran towards her.

"Mommy! Daddy! Let's go! I wanna go!" Samantha cried excitedly. The six-year-old tugged on her father's sleeve.

Derek chuckled. "Alright. Alright. We're leaving."

After going to a nice restaurant to eat dinner, the family decided to take a trip through the park. Little did Derek know that it would be the last time he saw his daughter and wife alive.

---

Near the same time that the family prepared to go out, a woman lay on the couch of her small house. Soon, the woman was no longer sleeping, but dozing. She scowled and sat up, stretching stiff limbs and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. The killer let out a wearisome sigh. _Time for work._

---

Derek held the hand of his little girl as they walked through the park. Melissa held Samantha's other hand, and all three of them wore smiles.

A cloaked figure sat on a low tree branch ahead. It was difficult for the druids of Moralliansor to maintain the greenery that came with a park, but they succeeded, and the figure seemed to be making the most of it. So dark was the person's cloak that it did not reflect the firelight coming from the torch opposite him or her. The cloak absorbed it rather.Derek could not determine the gender of the figure, until she began to sing with a melodious and obviously feminine voice. The eerie melody sent a shiver up Derek's spine. She reminded him of a siren calling sailors to their doom. The lyrics slowly became audible to him.

_Do not come near me_

If it is glory that you seek  
I am the bane of heroes  
The destroyer of the weak  
You call me a murderer  
The one who ends life  
The one who sheds innocent blood  
The one who brings strife  
If a killer is what I am to be  
Then I'll turn this world into my cemetery  
I am the ruler of the deceased  
The kingdom of the victim  
The lair of the beast  
The time is at hand  
I will add you to my empire  
Your corpse will not burn  
Upon a funeral pyre  
Pray to your gods for mercy  
For it will not come from me

"Melissa, take Samantha and get out of here." Derek said quickly.

"Derek--"

"Go! She--" but it was too late. A variation of an entanglement spell sprouted up from the greenery, creating an enormous dome made entirely of vines. The family and the killer were trapped inside.

The killer shed her cloak, revealing obsidian black leather armor that covered her from neck to toe. Her long white hair hung loosely about her shoulders and her face was covered by a bone chilling mask. Many intricate designs covered the mask, accompanied by slanted, red and violet eyes, long jagged teeth, and a snake-like nose. It was like looking at the face of evil itself.

The killer smiled beneath the mask and began moving towards the people, a knife in each of her hands. Derek attempted to position himself in front of his wife and child, but the small woman demonstrated surprising strength when she knocked him aside.

Samantha was openly crying now. The killer looked at her and tightened her hold on the dagger.

"NO! Don't you dare harm her!" Melissa cried and threw herself at the killer. The murderess slapped her across the face and knocked her to the ground. Melissa cried out as her ribs broke due to the killer's vicious kick and let out a bloodcurdling scream as a dagger pierced her back. The killer began carving a large skull symbol in Melissa's back. By the time she finished, Melissa was dead.

Samantha whimpered as the murderess approached. Her whimper became a shriek as the woman roughly grabbed her head and forced her to look at her as she carved a skull symbol into her forehead. The killer grabbed the child's jaw and twisted, nearly tearing it off before allowing the corpse to fall to the ground.

Derek watched, petrified as the woman approached him. Her armor was now stained red with the blood of his daughter and wife, and her knives were every bit as crimson. She bent down until their faces were only inches apart.

"Life isn't fair, is it?" Her mask hid her expression, and her voice held no emotion, so Derek could not tell if she was serious or if she was mocking him.

She continued, "You and your family have done nothing wrong, but you have still lost your child and spouse. Excruciating, isn't it?"

Derek stared at her, speechless.

The killer grinned maliciously beneath her mask. "You are not going to die tonight. Your conflict with me will not end with death, but with pain instead." With rapid speed, she gauged out his eyes. As he howled in pain, she cut another symbol into his cheek.

Derek could not see or hear her as she left the area.

---

Derek tried to swallow the lump once more. "Someone found me awhile later…I don't know how long. They…they got me healing. But Melissa and Samantha…" He buried his face in his hands, trying to shed tears when he could not.

Bryans sighed. "Sparrow, get this man some coffee, would you? Or tea. That will do as well."

"Yes, Sir." Sparrow left to obey.

Bryans frowned as he looking at the sobbing man. He knew that the man's assailant was a terrible and cruel murderess, and would have to be caught or killed. At any cost.

---

Ili entered the room of her home. A battle waged within her. One part of her screamed that her actions were wrong, while the other screeched with delight at the suffering and discord she was instilling. The assassin didn't particularly like either one of the parts and forced herself to ignore them both. It was easier said than done.

Ilivarra stripped off her stained armor and prepared a bath. She slid into the warm water, watching as the blood left her body and turned the water from clear to deep scarlet.

_The one who sheds innocent blood, _Ili thought. She stubbornly clenched her fist and gritted her teeth. _Everything for the mission. Everything for Corr and Amal. Everything for my vengeance._


	11. Chapter 11

AM: For a good visual of Ili's new haircut, check out Jean Grey in X-men 2. Special thanks to 'Bodies' by Drowning Pool, 'Kill Bill' etc.

Chapter Eleven

Ili quickly strode into her home, dragging the corpse of a young girl behind her. The seventeen-year-old was her latest victim. Ilivarra idly recalled her screams of agony and her cries for mercy, which Ili would never give.

The assassin opened the door to the basement and added her corpse to the growing amount. The lifeless eyes of the bodies seemed to stare at her, but Ili was not perturbed by them. Their apparent staring—and the putrid stench that their forms released—were things that Ili was well used to by then.

The assassin noted that only five of the corpses were victims that she had been specifically ordered to kill. The other bodies were innocents. All part of the plan.

Ilivarra stopped for a moment to look in the mirror. Now that her horrifying mask was gone, it was easy to see her face still quite pretty but for the scar that rested on her right cheek. Her amethyst-colored gaze held nothing short of digust. For her victims, for herself, she did not know. The assassin idly ran her fingers through her hair. She had recently cut it short, the tips reaching just past her earlobes and jutting out at the sides.

She peered down at the mask in her hands. Intricate, fearful designs covered the dark object, like gruesome bloodstains from some demonic rituals. How she despised that mask. It seemed to dominate her, much like Malice's words had when she had refused to kill children on her mission...and the lashing pain she recieved afterwards. Malice had almost killed her that time. And if Ilivarra refused even the barest of details, then she would later die for it. And Ili refused to die, not when she had left so much undone in her wretched life.

The mask provoked thoughts of rage and hatred whenever she wore it. Sometimes, it was as though she were slaughtering the images of Korve, or Guliara, rather than the innocents. But once the kill was over, despair threatened to overwhelm her at the sight of the innocents, the true victims of her bloodlust, the children she had murdered. By the pits of hell, what was wrong with her? Nothing in this life could ever call for such treatment! What few scruples she had dictated that she never kill or intentionally hurt children. Why would she break them? Was the threat of death from Malice's hands that powerful?

Some compelling force took over her when she wore the mask, something that forced her to hunt down and slaughter innocents. Something that shattered her will, her principles. Could it be that her mask had a geas placed upon it while in the care of the Red Sisters?

Ili let out a sigh. She was growing quite tired of this mission, and wanted it to be over as soon as possible.The thought remained as shewalked up the stairs and into the sitting room.

_Kill._

Ili stopped in her tracks. The emotions she felt had returned, but they had remained feelings, and never words.

_Stop._

Ili braced herself, deeply unnerved by this new development.

_Murder! Rend their flesh! Attack! This is wrong! Stop it, Ili!_

The voices grew stronger and stronger.

_DESTROY THEM ALL! THEY DO NOT DESERVE TO LIVE! NO ONE DOES! NO ONE BUT YOU! NO! HATE THEM! YOU ARE BETTER THAN THAT! TEAR THEM APART! DOMINATE THEM! SHOW MERCY! FEED YOUR RAGE!_

Her training as an assassin kicked in, and Ili struggled to steel herself. Slowly, her hands began to shake, and her breathing became rapid and shallow. The sheer volume of them eventually forced Ili to sink to her knees. The assassin bit her lip until she bled, but it was no use. The drow let out a bloodcurdling scream of suffering and clutched her head in pain.

"Shut up!" She shouted. "Shut the hell up!"

_COMMAND THEM! USE THE FEAR YOU'VE INSTILLED TO CREATE A NEW ERA OF POWER IN YOUR NAME! ANNIHILATE THEM! THEY ARE NO WHERE NEAR AS STRONG AS YOU! THE WEAK MUST BE ABOLISHED! CARE FOR THEM! IT IS YOUR DUTY AS THE ONE WITH POWER TO PROTECT THOSE WEAKER THAN YOU! STOP THIS! IT IS WRONG! HELP THEM! BUTCHER THEM! DESIST! REJECT THIS! HATE! RIP THEM APART! ASSIST THEM! DEMOLISH! SERVE! HALT! RULE! CONTROL!_

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Ilivarra roared. The drow screamed, sang, spoke…anything to stop the voices. The volume of her own voice had to overpower the other voices. That seemed to be a hopeless cause.

_ATTACK! AID! COMFORT! EXIT! TERMINATE! MANIPULATE! BURN THEM! SHED THEIR BLOOD! BREAK THEIR BONES! FEAST UPON THEIR BEATING HEARTS!_

She took a deep breath andbegan to speak. "One. Nothing wrong with me. Two. Nothing wrong with me."

_CONQUER! FREEZE! ERADICATE! TEND!_

"Three. Nothing wrong with me."

_MAIM. DEFEND. END. DEFEAT._

"Four! Nothing wrong with me!"

_Create. Massacre. Mother. Defy._

"FIVE! NOTHING WRONG WITH ME!" Ilivarra bellowed.

_You're going to get what you deserve._

That was the last phrase the voices said. Ilivarra crawled towards the corner of the room and sat for sometime. All her training was gone as she shivered and shook, desperately trying to regain her composure.

It was then that all of the anxiety set in. Anxiety alone, not fear. She hadn't felt fear in a good decade. Was she doing the right thing? Was her vengeance worth all this bloodshed? Would she even be powerful enough to defeat Korve?

_Yes, _Ili thought stubbornly. _It is worth it. This will only make me stronger. Strong enough to avenge. _

Ili suddenly started laughing. The laughter was soon followed by crying. Of course, she was not shedding tears. Only dry hacking noises came out. The drow's nerves were in such a state of turmoil that she found herself incapable of doing anything but howling with laughter and dry sobs.

Eventually, Ili calmed down enough to check her mental shields. They were in good condition.

This was not the first time she had suffered such a breakdown. For the first two weeks after her escape from the coffin, Ili had spent most of her time holding onto her last shred of sanity. Korve's torture had destroyed her mental shields, and had left her in a state that was more primal than anything else.

Ili found herself unable stop the memories from flooding back.

_Ili approached the inn. Anxiety grew in her at the thought of entering. It had been several days since she killed the svirfs, and her energy was returning, but it was accompanied by something else. Indescribable chaos. Every emotion Ili felt was amplified. Simple happiness, sadness, anger, and worry became the greatest joy, the deepest sorrow, all-consuming rage, and severe panic. She could barely control herself, and had lost all of her discipline and ability to repress. The natural chaos that inhibited the drow had been set free, and Ili was fighting a losing battle to regain control._

_Terror set in on the drow as she walked inside. The inn was not very crowded, but every cell in her body was alert and screaming with suspicion. They all would hurt her. Just as Korve had. None of them could be trusted. All were potential enemies._

_The bartender looked at her, raising his brows at her too-small clothes and wretched appearance but saying nothing. "What can I get you?"_

_"A room. Now!" Ili replied hastily, her eyes darting wildly about the room._

_"Alright. Alright. Keep your pants on."_

_Rage boiled in Ilivarra's veins. How could he, no, how DARE he say such a thing to her after all she had been through. Blood pounded in her ears and she could feel her heart beating rapidly. He would pay._

_Ilivarra snarled before reaching across the bar and snapping his neck. Though the action had been performed with the speed of a lightning bolt, it had seemed like slow motion to the bartender. The last thing he remembered was the drow's eyes. They were a beautiful purple, with the deep, black pupils the only sign of infravision. Those pupils had suddenly turned deep crimson—encircled by the still amethyst iris—as she broke his neck._

_The customers stared at Ilivarra in horror. They immediately stood up and pulled out weapons, advancing towards her. _

_Ilivarra growled a spell on impulse. Violet light poured from her fingers, and the customers screamed as their hearts exploded in their chests. _

_Exhaustion swept over the drow like a tsunami. Joy at her returned magic followed the drowsiness. She had her magic back, and with it, would be able to take her vengeance faster. _

Ilivarra frowned when she thought of her magic. Regaining it was excellent, but without her mental shields, she had much difficulty controlling it.

_Ilivarra lay on the floor of the inn room, curled around a pillow. She had managed to keep control this time and receive a room. It had been three days, and she found herself incapable of doing anything but attempting to regain control and occasionally slip money under the door to the inquiring innkeeper._

_Ili ran her fingers through her disheveled hair. It was now clean, as she had found the strength to bathe earlier that day, but did not possess the sense of order to comb it. Her hands traveled back to the pillow and she began whispering in different languages, her voice cracking with laughter, rage, and dry crying._

_"Usstan orn elgg ukta. I will kill him. Voy a matarle." The wizard let out a moan. "Oh gods, I'm cracking up." She had been tortured before many times. But none of it had lasted for six weeks, and it was not the same as when Korve tortured her. Ili was disgusted with herself, with her lack of control. She was a drow, and was supposed to be stronger. But she couldn't help it. Every emotion she had repressed for those weeks had spilled out, and now she was forced to come to terms with them. She couldn't be strong all the time, no matter how desperately she wanted to._

_Ili winced as violet light poured from her fingers, setting the pillow on fire but soon dying out. One of her hands turned into an ankheg claw, but soon returned to normal. All throughout the ordeal Ili's eyes rapidly switched back and forth from black to red. She was aware of these changes, but dismissed them as a hallucination, or a side affect of her returning magic. _

_A cruel laugh echoed throughout the room. _

_Ili turned around, and saw herself looking at the mercenary she hated so much._

_Korve smirked. "I fucked you up pretty well, didn't I, little cunt?" He idly twirled one of his sickles. "You look pretty damn good though. Pretty as a fuckin' picture, even with those scars."_

_Ili froze. _

_"Yeah, I left a lot of scars. On your face, your arms, your legs, your ass...yeah, especially your ass. Was it good for you too?"_

_Ili narrowed her eyes. She shouted a spell and aimed it at Korve, grinning with savage, manic delight as it sped towards him. To her horror he disappeared, the mercenary proving to be only a delusion of her unstable and unbalanced mind. _

_However, the hole that formed in the wall was not a figment of her imagination. Nor was the innkeeper that swung open the door and screamed, "What the hell happened?"_

_Ilivarra's fight or flight instincts kicked in, and she fled through the hole. The innkeeper watched in amazement at the agility of the drow as she jumped from rooftop to rooftop, a purple aura of magic crackling about her. Within seconds, she was out of sight, leaving him to ponder the odd guest and the damage she had inflicted._

_Ilivarra grit her teeth as she hid in the alley. The aura had left, and with it muchof her terror."I am a pathetic coward." she angrily declared to herself. _

It took two weeks for Ilivarra to truly regain some stability.

_Ilivarra sat in the corner of the newest inn, shaking all over much like a scared animal. She no longer cried or laughed, only quivered. And even that only happened occasionally. It had been two weeks, and she had slowly been recovering. The process was lengthy, but it seemed to get easier every day. Seconds of control became minutes, and minutes became hours. However, Ili did not trust herself to retain the stability to a satisfying degree. Her emotions had returned to normal as well, but she was subconsciously still frightened by the knowledge that she was not as strong as she always believed she was. Korve had defeated her despite her power as a mage, she was not able to control her impulses, and to top it all off she couldn't stop shaking. But she would fight to take back her strength and courage, no matter how agonizing. After all, what did she have to lose besides her sanity?_

_Suddenly, she stopped quivering. Ili frowned and looked at her hands, seeing that they were perfectly still and calm. She silently whispered a spell. The ends of her fingers were lit on fire, precisely what she had wanted._

_Ili stood up. She knew then that the stability of mind had returned, all due to her stubborn battle to hang onto her sanity. The fear was gone, but Ili would have accepted it if it had stayed. Fear was a necessary part of acquiring courage. She'd known that since she was a child, and had rarely allowed fear to dominate her. Never allowing it to dominate her completely in any matter. Her emotions had changed as well. All she felt was cool collected calm. Her rage, her sorrow, every emotion had become cold, encasing her heart in ice and giving her the strength she wanted. She embraced the cold, knowing that emotions would only impair her goals, but would repair her shields. The drow had finally won, and her mental shield was nearly all repaired. _

_She put on a confident smile. A smile which reached her amethyst eyes, not a single bit of bright red covering her pupils. "Time to work, Ilivarra."_

Ili remembered that when she regained her control, she had started taking drugs and drinking alcohol. Anything to numb her mind and calm her down as she worked on permanently regaining control.

The toll on her emotions was great, but she saw it as a benefit. She no longer felt fear, only cold and hot anger. Sorrow and remorse did not exist. Compassion and empathy were dead.

Control was deeply important to her. Ever since she was a child, she had worked on developing the mental shields she needed to control her power. The last thing she needed was to succumb to the power that ran in the Barrindar family. The psionic power that had corrupted Guliara and some of Ili's sisters.

Ili clenched her teeth. Now was not the time to be reflecting on such matters. _My emotional weakness is positively foul, _she thought. _I have work to do. I will never allow that to happen to me again. I am in charge of my own mind. Not those voices. I am stronger than them. I am in control. I am sane._

Ilivarra stood up, steeling her mind to continue her work. She gritted her teeth and walked towards the door, repressing any of her emotions and thoughts. However, one thought could not be repressed.

_You're going to get what you deserve._

All of the voices had joined in that final line, their tone sinister and foreboding. It would not be until years later that Ili realized all four of the voices were warped, twisted versions of her own voice.


End file.
